


Truce

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Assault, Caretaking, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Castiel, Emotionally Hurt Castiel, F/M, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Raped Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 13:31:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17643746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Castiel has been a thorn in the side of both Heaven and Hell.In the hours before Christmas, the demons and angels decide to join forces to teach the angel the error of his ways, in the most brutal manner.But Dean is coming for his angel, and until then Cas finds help in the most unexpected of places.





	Truce

Cas sees the old man as he’s leaving. He’s huddled into a ball, wracked with shivers, tucked behind a dumpster.

He goes over, unsure of what he can do, but remembers what it feels like all too keenly to be desperate and cold and feel like no one cares.

Or no one cares anymore.

His offer of a room is politely declined; the motel manager has an issue with ‘homeless’ and the old man expects to be moved on as soon as he’s discovered.

Cas is of a mind to try, anyway, but then he realises going in and asking the manager if he can obtain and pay for a room for the old man will give his presence away sooner.

He remembers from before that any type of shelter, even in a doorway, or behind a dumpster, was to be valued and held on to as long as possible.

So, in the end, and used to by then the knowledge that there are things even an angel can’t change, he digs out the cold weather survival pack Dean had insisted on putting in the truck.

It has things Cas might need, like a snow shovel, and thinks he probably wouldn’t but accepted anyway because it made him feel good that Dean cared, and because accepting them meant Dean worried less, and got _to_ care.

Among the things Cas would probably never use were a thermal blanket, and a warm change of clothing, complete with thick socks.

He gives them to the old man, with whatever cash he has on them, and then goes back to his truck.

He almost misses the thin voice calling back to him, “Merry Christmas, son, when it comes.”

Cas smiles and wishes him the same, but when Christmas comes he’ll be back in the bunker, and he knows he’ll be wondering where the old man is then.

Or, so he thinks.

++

He’s so very cold. 

That’s the first thing that tells him something is wrong. He doesn’t, or doesn’t any more, feel the cold.

Hasn’t done in years.

So why is he feeling it now?

He reaches out, tentatively, with his Grace, seeking to review the condition of his body, and that is a mistake.

Beneath the cold is pain. His body is wracked with it, and it’s all he can do not to cry out loudly into the night.

Slowly, full awareness returns, and Cas forces himself to stay still and calm as he takes stock.

He is naked.

He is lying in the snow, and he is bleeding, and he cannot stay here.

The immediate threat is gone.

So he has to get up.

But he can’t. He wills it, uses all his strength to force himself to get onto his feet, but his body simply won’t respond, and he doesn’t understand why.

A familiar face looms into view above him, and he would flinch if he was able.

“Help me,” he says.

Hands cup his cheek gently, spreading a little warmth into his skin.

“Hold on, son,” the old man says. “Just you hold on.”

++

Dean had been travelling to meet Cas anyway, the idea being that since they each caught a hunt in the same area, once both were done, Cas would just follow him back to the bunker.

 _Or you could follow me back_ , Cas had said, that barely there twitch of his lips giving him away. 

_Not gonna happen_ , Dean had said. _My Baby’s a leader, not a follower_.

Sam had just rolled his eyes, and got out of both the conversation and the room while he could.

But now Dean’s travelling probably faster than the road conditions allow, his heart rabbit thumping in his chest, his fingers white knuckle tight around the wheel, trying to get as much from the replay in his head of that telephone call as he could.

Cas is hurt.

He got jumped by some people in the parking lot of the motel.

Some of them were guests, one was the hotel manager.

Cas said no police, and no ambulance.

Dean doesn’t want to think how bad Cas must look if the old man who phoned him wanted to get the angel an ambulance, but he’ll know soon because he’s pulling into the motel parking lot and there’s Cas’s truck.

He pulls in right next to it, grabs his gun and dagger, and jumps out.

Yeah, he can see why the old guy wanted to call an ambulance.

Cas is sitting in the front seat of the truck, wrapped in just the thermal blanket from the winter kit Dean had put in his car.

His skin is white as the snow on the ground, where it isn’t bloody and bruised. One eye is swollen shut, and then Cas realises he’s there, and shifts towards him.

He bares skin that way, and Dean can see what looks like a bite.

He notices then the blood pooling on the snow right under where Cas is sitting, drip, drip, drip.

But then Cas is falling towards him, and the old man shouts and reaches for him, and Dean does too, and catches Cas, and holds onto him, feeling his angel shiver against him.

“Dean,” he whispers, voice low, and so fucking destroyed that Dean doesn’t know, for a moment, what to do.

But then he does, because Cas needs him to hold together and take care of him.

He glances at the old man, but figures Cas would have spoken up if he was demon or angel, or whatever.

“You know how to drive?”

++

Staying among a parking lot full of bodies just wasn’t an option. Dean could see that no one had survived what looked like a mass possession.

It’s only a matter of time before somebody passes by and phones the cops, and they need to be gone by then.

Dean and the old man get Cas into the back of the Impala, and the old man takes Cas’s truck, and Dean notices then that he’s wearing the old shirt and pants and coat that Dean put aside for the angel, but he doubts the guy just stole them.

It doesn’t read like that, but he’ll find out later.

For now, he’s the only help around, so there’s no choice.

They drive, heat cranked up, until Dean’s sure they’re far enough away that no one is going to be looking for them. 

Another motel would be ideal, but too risky, and he can’t leave Cas as he is until they reach the bunker.

So both vehicles pull in out of sight of the road, and Dean grabs his first aid kit from the trunk.

The old man hovers, watching as Dean gets in behind Cas, until the hunter gives him a warning glare.

“I was a medic, in the army,” he says. “I can help, son.”

And Dean could use it, and he has no choice but to trust this stranger, so he does.

Warily, but he trusts.

Anyway, he gets the idea that the old man knows more of what happened than he does.

As they work, Dean gets both sides of the story.

What the old man saw, and what Cas knows.

That there were ten or twelve of them, and they showed him no mercy at all.

That there were both angels and demons, going on at the angel about a truce, and Cas makes a bitter joke about what it took to get Heaven and Hell to set aside their differences and work together.

He supposes he should be honoured to have made it possible.

Dean puts his hand gently across Cas’s mouth, and looks again at the old man, who’s now gloved up and carefully cleaning out another deep bite on Cas’s side.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I saw what came out of some of those people. Didn’t know what it was, but the way they fought… _he_ fought…”. He nods at Cas. “I knew I wasn’t dealing with...anything ordinary.”

“I don’t even know your name,” Cas says.

“Frank,” the old man says. “Frank Bettock.”

Cas goes silent then, the massive dose of morphine Dean gave him finally kicking in.

Dean presses fingers to just under his jaw, just in case, and leaves off then, satisfied.

“Thanks for helping him, Frank.”

The old man doesn’t look up, starts stitching the wound shut. “He helped me first.”

++

Dean takes care of the damage lower down, stitching where there was no choice, and knowing Cas is going to look and feel like roadkill until he recovers from this. 

Damage inflicted by demons and angels will take longer to heal.

He takes their gloves, and rubbish, and bags it, and dumps it in the truck, and then calls Sam to tell him what happened.

Sam’s rage and pain are immediate and Dean reckons his time for that will come; right now, he’s in triage mode. He’s done what he can for Cas’s wounds, now he needs to get him home and safe, and then he expects Sam will take Cas from him, and look after him.

That’s when Dean knows it’ll hit him, hard, and he’ll need to go shoot something.

But right now, he has one responsibility.

He goes back to the car to find Cas is coming to, a little dazed, but settles when he sees Frank and Dean.

“Are you both alright?”

Dean chuckles, shakes his head, and grins at the confused look on Frank’s face. “He does that. Yeah, Cas, we’re both fine. Time to get you home.”

Frank seems to take that as his cue. “I’ll follow you in the truck to wherever you want me to leave it,” he says, and he starts to get out, when Cas suddenly catches hold of his sleeve.

“Dean,” he says, and Cas looks between them, and Dean realises something else.

Why the old guy was wearing the clothes Dean stuck in the truck as cold weather spares.

That Frank had helped Cas when other people would have ran.

That Cas always, always, pays his debts.

 _You sure, angel_ , he prays.

Cas nods, desperately, and that’s good enough for Dean.

++

Explaining the bunker takes a little doing, but Frank’s already now aware of angels and demons, and hunters who live in an underground facility once owned by a secret organisation who monitored and controlled supernatural activity in the USA probably isn’t that much of a stretch.

Sam does as Dean knew he would; picks Cas up and takes him to the infirmary, and checks him over again, and gives him more morphine, and then tucks Cas into bed with a ton of blankets, and won’t leave his side.

Dean starts for the target range, but then realises Frank is there, and that stops him.

Frank stops him.

Because, you see, Frank gets it, and he and Dean end up sitting into the small hours, and talking, and by the time Sam comes in to tell them Cas is awake again, it’s Christmas.

++

Dean isn’t sorry that Frank never leaves. He knows his way around guns, and he’s got steel in him.

And it’s pretty clear that he’s formed a powerful bond with their angel; Dean would go so far as to say that Frank’s adopted Cas, and Cas seems to have no objections.

It’s the relationship Dean and Sam had with Bobby, just that Frank isn’t as bitchy half the time. He shares the same heart of gold though, and Cas…

There are a lot of things Cas needs, and one of them is a dad who gives a damn.

He has that now.


End file.
